Cheryl Tan - Sarong Party Girls

So I just said, “Eh, boss, I’m very happy where I am—you don’t need to worry about me. OK?”

Albert sighed again. “You are not getting younger anymore, Jazzy—you have so much potential,” he said, squeezing my hand and patting my thigh. I guess the conversation was over.

“I just want you to carefully consider what I’ve asked you,” he added, leaning back now. “It’s time to grow up. If you really don’t have any other options—have you thought about working in circulation?”

First, we figure out the Chinese bitches.

At least that was the plan. (Part one of it anyway.) If girls from Mainland China were coming over here to try and steal our men, we need to figure out how they’re doing it! I had texted Fann and Imo first thing Friday morning before going to work that day—I’d just laid out my strategy to them the night before after all, so it was still on my mind. Besides, I was trying to find a way to distract myself from my mum, who I suspected would try to drag me out to the wet market before work that morning. My god, that woman really had never met a chicken backside she didn’t like—whenever I go marketing with her, each chicken backside also must stop and look ten times before walking on. “Meet outside Lunar—11 p.m.,” I said to the girls in my text. “Last one buys first round.”

Then, just when I was lying there, thinking of our strategy, what to do tonight at the Lunar, a club that we’d heard was just filled with China girls, my mum of course decided to bang on my door and nag at me. Hello, people here have a serious mission, you know—after giving the girls that big lecture last night with all those Excel spreadsheet-type points, we need to follow through tonight!

“Huay ah! Sleeping still?” my mum was shouting. I could tell from how her voice was getting louder that she was starting to open my door and pop her head in. Aiyoh, I don’t know why, after so many years already she’s still calling me by my Chinese name. My god, Ah Huay is so cheena! I told her how many times already that my name is now Jazeline, but she still catch no ball. Before I started working, I changed my name already—not in my passport lah. That would be too much work. But starting from secondary school I already told everyone—from now on, just call me Jazeline. This name is quite power, you know—I know I made it up lah but it’s a name that nobody else has! Jazeline is not Jasmine or Celine or any boring name like that—it’s damn special. In the whole of Singapore, only I have this name. When people hear it, they confirm know they’d better pay attention to me. All these things, I told my mum so many times already. If she wants me to succeed outside of her small world, how can I do it without an ang moh name? Why she cannot understand?

“So lazy!” my mum said, shouting even louder when she saw I was still in bed. Aiyoh. “I need your help to buy things from the market—you better hurry up otherwise I got nothing to make for your pa’s dinner tonight!” She didn’t even wait for me to say anything before slamming the door. I knew that if I didn’t just jump up to follow her, she confirm would come back in two minutes so—no choice is no choice.

By the time I quickly put on some clean shorts and T-shirt and brushed my teeth, my mum was already sitting by the door holding her wallet, wearing her slippers, looking damn grumpy. When she saw me come out, she just jumped up and started walking out the door. I swear, this woman moves faster than anybody I know.

When we walked to the wet market, I realized how late it was—no wonder she was in such a bad mood. If you want to go to the wet market, you must 6:30 A.M. wake up and fasterly go. Eight A.M. then go marketing? At that hour on a weekday, a lot of market uncles got air also they won’t bother selling to you. They’re tired already—time to close shop and balik kampong.

So by the time we started walking around, her favorite fish uncle was holding a fat red rubber hose, washing his stall and splashing pink water everywhere. Even though my mum tried to smile at him a bit, he had nothing to sell her. “Sorry lah—even my reserve fish all no more already,” he said, actually looking apologetic. “Hallo, now what time already! You now then come?” Luckily her second-choice fish uncle still had a few pieces and the pork uncle also hadn’t packed up his stall otherwise my mum will confirm spend the whole weekend saying I made her to go to NTUC and buy not-so-fresh fish and pork.

I was feeling quite sotong at this moment. Damn tired, first of all—didn’t sleep enough, of course, since I ended up having more drinks with the girls last night to celebrate our plan. On top of that, my mum was walking so fast through the wet market, trying to get to her vegetable boy and the flower auntie before they closed shop. Since some uncles had already started cleaning up, the floor was damn slippery; running water sloshed around our toes. But my mum was not affected, of course—she just glided through the market as if she were going down a slide. Guniang over here was just desperately trying to keep up—and not splash any pink water on my legs.

Whenever my mum stopped, she would try and give me some lesson. “Huay ah, when you buy chicken or duck ah, if the uncle doesn’t kill it in front of you, you must remember to always press the skin a bit—got bounce back then it’s good. Never bounce back then don’t buy. Too old already.” Or, “Make sure you see the color of the fish eyes before you buy—cloudy one means not fresh.”

All these things—I don’t know why she’s wasting her saliva to tell me. I’ve heard it all how many times already! Finally, I got a bit fed up. “Ma, you damn long-winded lah,” I said when she kept trying to push a winter melon into my hands to make me feel it. “If you use less saliva, maybe you can finish your shopping faster.”

Wah—that’s when she got angry.

“You think I’m just being naggy for the sake of nagging you, is it? Ah Huay ah, you how old already? You won’t always have your mum here to buy food for you, cook for you every day, you know? One day when you get married, who is going to go shopping for you? You’d better learn now otherwise nobody will marry you! Or worse, you get married and your husband so unhappy he divorce you. Then your life will really be over. With men—you must always know how to feed and pamper them otherwise their stomachs will lead them outside.”

I almost wanted to laugh. Me? Go shopping in a wet market? As if! When Jazzy gets married, a Filipino maid is going to do all her marketing. Some more, the kind of shopping my family will do is confirm not shopping at a wet market—it’s the “drive your car and go to Cold Storage on Sunday with the kids” type of shopping. More expensive also no problem. You think Jazzy’s husband is going to want food bought in a low-class wet market with bloody water and chicken shit all over the floor?

I know this is all my mum always expected from her lousy life—in fact, all things considered, it’s much better than the life that her mother had. Her ma grew up on one of those old pig farms! But please—my mum should know that their lives will not be my life.

“Ma, please lah—this kind of lesson, I don’t need to learn,” I told her.

My mum stopped walking. Right in the middle of the wet market corridor some more. When I saw her eyes, my god, I knew that now I’m really going to get scolded.

“You ah—I tell you, just dream dream dream only,” she said loudly. “You think I don’t know what you think you can get? Some ang moh prince to come and bring you home with them, far far away from me and your pa? You better wake up your head, Ah Huay! Once we are gone, you’ll have no one to take care of you if these are the kinds of guys you want. These ang mohs—they only want one thing. When they take already, they don’t need you anymore. You think I don’t have eyes, is it? Cannot see what is going on with you? See you how late then come home all the time? You think I don’t know what you do when you are outside, is it? See how you dress, put lipstick and perfume all? You think the neighbors don’t ask me why you always have strange ang moh guys sending you home so late? I tell you—seeing your daughter do all these kinds of thing, break your pa’s heart only. He want to talk to you also don’t have words to say.”